


Shoot The Moon (And Miss)

by Halmaithor



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everybody Dies, Multi, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-07 22:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21225032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halmaithor/pseuds/Halmaithor
Summary: ‘The angels. They’re – they’re wiping the slate clean.’The Shadow World is disappearing, piece by piece. Six people, refusing to let danger pull them apart, make a last-ditch attempt to save it.(Set after the last episode’s time skip, and after Clary rejoins the Shadow World.)





	Shoot The Moon (And Miss)

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Major character deaths, plural. Much as I'm proud of it, this is NOT a happy story. It’s an ‘everybody dies’ angsty fic about finding comfort in love at the end of everything.

_An angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. (Luke 2:9)_

***

They’re together, of course, the six of them half-collapsed on the damp, slimy ground. It could never be any other way. The island they’re on is really more of a tiny, rocky hill, surrounded by choppy waters and far, far away from civilisation. In the distance, an unnatural glow is beginning to light up the storm clouds.

Alec supposes he should be afraid, but he’s just numb. _We failed. _He feels hollow, and the thought echoes around his head like the words are bouncing off the walls of a cavern. _It’s over._

***

Raziel created the Shadowhunters to protect the Mundanes, or so the story goes, and in doing so had forever linked the world with its Shadow. The Nephilim were proof of the bond forged between the mortal and the divine, as Downworlders were proof of the irrevocable, ancient bond between the Mundane and the infernal. So when Clave authorities first started getting reports of the disappearances – entire parts of the Shadow World gone, lifted and erased from remote corners of the planet like a fading dream – they’d been baffled by why the Mundane world in those places seemed totally unaffected.  
Clary’s connection to the angels provided the answer, when she woke from a nightmare screaming. ‘It’s them,’ she sobbed, shaking as Jace held her in his arms. ‘The angels. They’re – they’re wiping the slate clean.’ 

It seemed impossible, but when the two of them stood in Alec’s office in Alicante, Clary recounting what she saw, there was no doubt among any of them that it was true. The angels had apparently decided that the Shadow World had become too unruly, growing larger and less controlled than they ever intended, and they were going to cleanse the world of it like fire cleanses a forest. They would sunder any connection between the mortal and the divine, between the Mundane and the infernal – and thus eliminate any who straddled those lines.

Panic washed like a flood throughout the Shadow World, and only through the joint leadership of the Clave and the Downworld was it channelled into action instead of chaos. Defences were put in place, countless ideas of how to avoid or redirect or destroy the onslaught of divine destruction. But as Institute after Institute fell, talks turned from victory to survival, from battle strategy to hiding places; and after countless devastating losses, one solution finally presented itself.  
The Seelie realm is not a mere border between the infernal and the divine, for those worlds could never meet so simply. Instead, they infuse each other, heightening the call of both magics in the very air, pulling and shifting the veil between all worlds until something entirely separate is born.  
If anywhere could be safe from the cold Armageddon of the angels, it would be there.

No-one with any experience would call the fair folk _kind_ – but above all else, they value life, and so the Queen agreed to the Shadow World’s plea for help. Alicante was fast becoming their last bastion, the final keep in this siege, and portals from there to the Seelie realm operated almost non-stop to complete the evacuation of as many Nephilim and Downworlders as possible.

But even as the entire Shadow World braced for the worst, in the libraries of Alicante, the search for a miracle continued.  
It came as no surprise to Alec that Magnus was the one to find it.

‘Here,’ he said, thumping the open book down on Alec’s desk. ‘These records are ancient – even older than I am – and they talk of a diamond altar in the middle of the ocean. Mundanes call it the Bermuda Triangle, and nowadays they blame the odd occurrences there on natural gases, but their previous theories were actually more accurate. It’s where we’ll find the thinnest part of the veil between Earth and the angels, and therefore the only place we have any chance of successfully using _this_.’ He opened another book – this time, a hand-stitched grimoire – to an intricately illuminated page. ‘I can perform this ritual there, sending a shockwave through the veil. If we’re lucky, it’ll distance us from the angels before they can finish their… _clean-up _of the Shadow World. It won’t tear us completely away from them, like they’re planning, but it might stop them being able to get through with all their fire and brimstone.’

Alec looked over the books quickly, turning Magnus’ words over in his head. ‘And if we’re _unlucky_?’  
Magnus grimaced. ‘Well, put it this way – it’s not like things can get much worse, right?’  
Alec wasn’t so sure about that, but he put it aside. This could be their only option. ‘Alright. At this point, pretty much anything’s worth a shot. What do you need for the ritual?’  
‘I have the herbs and almost all of the magical components – it’s old, _old _magic, so there’s surprisingly few of each needed. But the preparation of the altar requires a gift from two of the world’s veils – angelic and demonic blood, each mixed with mundane but separate from the other.’  
‘So, warlock and Shadowhunter blood?’ Alec stood, rounding the desk to join his husband. ‘Guess that means I’m joining you.’  
‘That won’t be necessary,’ Magnus said, waving a hand in dismissal. ‘I’ll take a vial of your blood with me, complete the ritual by myself. You can stay here and oversee the evacuation.’  
Magnus’ tone was breezy, confident, and Alec reckoned that anyone else would have been fooled. But he wasn’t just anyone. ‘Helen and Aline are handling that,’ he said slowly, not bothering to hide his suspicion. ‘Which you already know. Which means that there’s a reason you don’t want me there, and I’m probably not gonna like it.’

Magnus’ face quirked as he obviously considered maintaining the charade, but apparently he thought better of it, because he dropped the false casual tone and sighed. ‘The altar is a strong source of angelic power,’ he explained, ‘and that can attract a slightly-higher-than-average demonic presence. But I can handle it,’ he said hurriedly, probably in an effort to forestall any objection. ‘You don’t have to be there. I’ll be fine.’

Alec just stared at him for a moment, exasperated. How he loved this man. This beautiful, brave, unfathomably powerful idiot. ‘I’m coming with you, Magnus.’  
‘Alexander-‘  
‘No.’ He took both of Magnus’ hands in his own, stooping down when Magnus tried to avoid his gaze. ‘You’ll have enough to do completing the ritual without fighting off a swarm of demons. You’re my husband, and I love you, and I’m coming with you to watch your back.’

Magnus pulled his hands away, and for a moment Alec thought he was going to argue. But instead, he smiled softly, reaching up to clasp his hands around Alec’s neck. ‘Alright,’ he murmured. ‘Do we bring anyone else?’  
Alec hesitated. ‘No,’ he said, trying to sound decisive instead of as unsure as he felt. ‘We’ve lost enough people, and even with your magic expertise, we’re shooting the moon here. It should just be the two of us.’  
Magnus opened his mouth to reply, the look on his face suggesting that he rather liked the sound of _just the two of us_, but he didn’t get a chance to speak before another voice came through the door. ‘Oh, like _hell_.’

The door opened and Jace strode in, Clary and Izzy at his heels, Simon lurking in the doorway. ‘No way are you two going in alone,’ Jace continued. ‘I’m coming with you.’  
‘So am I,’ Izzy chimed in.  
Alec frowned, annoyed that he’d forgotten to ask Magnus for a silencing charm before starting this conversation. He drew himself up tall - he’d learned early on to use his height to his advantage when in command – and folded his arms. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘You two are to head to the Seelie realm with the other refugees.’  
‘Correction,’ Clary said, meeting Alec’s stare in clear rebellion. ‘Us _three_ are coming with you.’  
‘Four,’ Simon added. ‘I mean, I’m coming too.’

‘Absolutely not,’ Alec said, irritation beginning to show – and the conversation quickly devolved after that, all of them talking over each other. Jace was adamant that he wouldn’t leave his parabatai _(besides, I have more angel blood in me, you should use _mine _for the ritual)_, Clary wouldn’t leave Jace, Izzy was determined to stand with her brothers _(what happened to ‘three go in, three come out?’)_, and Simon declared that if Clary and Izzy were going, there was no way_ he_ was being left behind-

‘_Enough.’_ Magnus’ voice rang with power, filling the room with an unnatural echo and stunning them all into silence. (Well, almost all of them. Simon turned to Clary and whispered ‘Woah, he’s like _Gandalf_.’)  
When he spoke again, his voice had dropped back to normal levels. ‘We don’t have time for this. Clearly we’re all too stubborn for our own good, so I don’t see that we have much of a choice. No-one stays behind. We’ll do this together.’

***

In hindsight, it was a godsend that they hadn’t come alone. ‘_Slightly-above-average_, my ass,’ Alec muttered, decapitating the nearest threat before returning to his bow.

They’d arrived on the small island to find it absolutely _teeming_ with demons – shax, ravener, every kind Alec had fought before and some he was pretty sure he’d _never _seen, not even in his textbooks growing up. Thankfully, they all died the same, and Alec launched arrow after arrow while the others fought close-range, trying to keep the space around the gleaming altar clear enough for Magnus to work. He and Jace had fought their way through first, and Jace was already back in the fray, paying no mind to the still-bleeding cut along his forearm. With the blood offering made, Magnus had moved on to the main part of the ritual, closing his eyes and chanting in a deep, guttural language as he threw the spell components into the pool of his and Jace’s blood, weaving the magic from his fingertips.  
Alec belatedly realised that he should have asked Magnus how long the spell would take, because the tide of demons seemed never-ending, and they were beginning to close in. He wasn’t sure how much longer they could hold them back.

He changed tactics, stowing his bow and drawing his blades again. He leapt forward to stand between Jace and Izzy, weapons arcing in a graceful rhythm, cutting down as many demons in his path as he could. The three of them co-ordinated their attacks effortlessly, a lifetime of training together making itself known.  
But still, it wasn’t enough, and they were forced backwards, ever closer to the altar. Alec slashed and thrust until his blades were covered in ichor, but he was flagging, and they were pushed back farther, and farther-

_‘Down!’ _Magnus’ voice rang out in command again, and Alec automatically dropped to his hands and knees – just in time to stop himself being knocked over by a pulse of gold magic that _evaporated_ every demon in front of him.  
He jumped to his feet, whirling around to face his husband, stomach dropping when he saw him sway on his feet and brace against the altar. ‘Magnus!’  
‘It’s okay,’ Magnus said, gritting his teeth, but he leaned into Alec as soon as he was near enough. ‘Keep an eye out for any others. I should have just enough magic left to finish the ritual.’ He reached into his bag for another component, resuming his chant.

The sky exploded above them.

And suddenly Alec felt himself falling, a tiny patch of ground rushing up towards him, dread running heavy through his veins because even with the runes he had active he knew there was no way he’d survive that fall -

His stomach turned as he felt himself slow down. Looking around in confusion he saw Magnus, arms outstretched and blue-white magic flowing from him to the rest of them.  
They touched down slowly, the magic flickered out, and Magnus collapsed.  
‘Magnus!’ Alec ran to his side, lifting him up and leaning him against his chest. ‘Magnus?’  
His husband’s eyes fluttered open, and then Alec’s attention was ripped away to another explosion in the distance. A lightning bolt, bright and furious, slamming into something that glittered like glass as it shattered. Alec knew that power, could recognise it even that far away, his runes singing under his skin at the show of divine strength.  
‘No,’ Magnus whispered, and the penny dropped. The altar. The ritual.

_We failed._   
_It’s over._

***

‘We have to get out of here,’ Jace says. It’s the first thing to break the silence since their last chance at victory was destroyed right in front of their eyes. ‘Magnus, if we all lend you strength at the same time, can you make us a portal back to Alicante?’  
In answer, Magnus just sits up straighter, still in contact with Alec but no longer leaning his entire weight against him. The others converge on them, each laying a hand against Magnus’ shoulder, his back, his arm.  
He moves his hands slowly in front of him, magic sparking at his fingertips as he tries to conjure a portal. Alec feels himself grow woozy, his strength being sapped for the spell.

He’s on the verge of blacking out when he feels the last shred of his stamina snap back to him. Magnus slumps against his chest again. ‘I can’t,’ he says dully. ‘I can’t do it.’

And that’s it, that’s their escape plan dead in the water. Because Clary can’t portal anymore, the angels took that ability from her when she rejoined the Shadow World. Magnus was their only way home.

There’s silence again for a moment, until Simon lets out a shaky breath. ‘Oh g-god,’ he says. ‘Oh god, oh god…’  
Alec feels Izzy turn away, settling with her back against his as she reaches out to Simon, hushing him, starting up the same comforting ramble she developed when Max was a baby.

_Max_. Alec’s mind flicks to his family, his friends. Mom, Dad and Max, Catarina and Madzie, Helen and Aline – they’re as safe as they can be, taking shelter in the Seelie realm. He spares them a thought, almost prays for their safety before he catches himself. It’s not like the angels are on their side right now.

He looks over at Jace, and his parabatai meets his eyes in understanding. In acceptance. His right hand is in Clary’s left, both of their knuckles white with how tight they’re holding on, and all three of them look back out at the light in the distance – still now, but steadily growing.

Sparks in his peripheral vision draw Alec’s attention back to Magnus, who’s waving his hands with increasing violence, trying again to conjure the portal. But he was already low on magic from taking out those demons, and probably used his last reserves saving them from that fall.  
Alec reaches out his free hand to still his husband’s, because he doesn’t want Magnus’ last moments to be passing out in frustration and fear from magic depletion. ‘Hey,’ he says gently, and when Magnus looks up at him his eyes are wild like those of a frightened animal, the glamour long gone. Alec finds himself smiling gently, lifts Magnus’ hand and kisses it. ‘Aku cinta kamu,’ he murmurs.

A strangled cry tears itself from Magnus’ throat, and then he’s grabbing Alec’s collar with both hands and pulling him down into a hard, desperate kiss. Alec tastes salt and doesn’t know whether it’s from Magnus’ tears or his own.  
When they pull apart, it’s just so they can tug each other closer, Magnus’ face buried in the crook of Alec’s neck. ‘Alexander,’ he says, his voice breaking even on a whisper, and Alec holds him even tighter because he knows, he knows what Magnus is saying. _I’m afraid. Don’t let go. I love you too._

The light is closer now, and growing brighter, too bright to see, bright even when Alec screws his eyes shut.  
The last things he feels are Izzy’s back pressed against his, Jace’s heart pounding in time with his own, and Magnus wrapped safely in his arms. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading. Do let me know what you thought. <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr:  
silver-latin-and-salt.tumblr.com


End file.
